


Last Wishes

by Snowmane



Category: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Gen, Last Wishes (Quest), Questioning Beliefs (not the quest!), Randomness, architect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-03-07
Packaged: 2018-01-14 23:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1282519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snowmane/pseuds/Snowmane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After escaping from the Architect the group around the Dalish Warden Commander delivers the ring of their fallen comrade Keran to his wife, Nida, in Amaranthine. Nathaniel pouts, Anders ogles the pretty barmaid and the Commander is obviously not good in delivering this kind of messages. Or so it seems.<br/>A few days later Anders tries to figure out what actually happened and finds that elvhen Commanders and cats are quite alike - when in doubt, you'll find them on the rooftop.<br/>A bit of humour, a bit weighty in the middle, some Awakening-Anders because we all need a lot more of him and I hope somehow enjoyable altogether.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Wishes

**Author's Note:**

> Anybody else had the urgent need to strangle Nida during DA:Awakening? Honestly, this woman made me wish for the option of killing NPC's. Or at least being able to slap them. Turned my frustation in a little text, found it a few weeks ago and reworked the whole thing into something (hopefully) half-decent. Might get a bit weighty in the middle. I think it's just me missing my Warden.

The singer in the corner came to an abrupt end when the doors of the “Crown and Lion” opened and a gush of wind blew into the smoke-filled tavern. As the other patrons went quiet and the looks wandered to the four armoured strangers that just entered the room he carefully put his lute back down in its case. As an experienced minstrel he knew how tavern brawls normally started and made sure his precious instrument was safe.  
“Can I do anything for you, Ser?” The barkeeper obviously tried to calm the rising tension. He lifted a pint of ale and gestured to the dark haired man who had walked in first. He seemed to be the leader of the odd group. There was something familiar about him but the musician couldn’t quite put the finger on it. Curiously he craned his neck to have a good look at the rest of the group: The bard could spot another blond male human, warily looking around in the tavern’s dimly lit main room, a ginger-haired dwarf in heavy armour and a female elf with a tattooed face – a Dalish, as far as he would reckon. All were dusty from the road and had done nothing to hide their weapons and blood-spoiled armour. How did they even manage to get past the city guard? His hand closed tightly around the lute case. If they wanted trouble this would be more than an ordinary banter…  
“Please, relax. We are just here for a drink and some good food before we have to hit the road again. No trouble intended.” He was surprised to see the petite elf step forward and offer a friendly nod to the man. “I hope we don’t bother you too much?”  
“No, not at all. You’re in the right place! We have the best ale in Amaranthine and the soup was just made this morning. We also offer a wide variety of beers and stouts as well as some wine. You sure have heard of it…” The innkeeper had overcome his first shock and was now seeing a chance to get some coin. Slowly the musician opened the case again and straightened his back while the elf started discussing with the barkeeper and her comrades settled at a table in a corner. With a dismissive grunt he decided to sing the last song again. One of his favourite tunes interrupted by some ragged mercenaries! Things were really going down in this town…

“I once learned to play the lute as well.” Anders gestured to the man in the middle who started setting up his instrument. They had obviously interrupted him in the middle of a song.  
“Please don’t, my friend. You entertaining the whole inn is not the kind of attention we need right now.” Nathaniel loosened the straps that held the huge bow on his back and leaned it carefully against the wall before sitting down as well, “Speaking of which – what are we doing here?”  
“Returning that poor souls ring as far as I remember” The mage raised his eyebrows. “Or are you talking about food and drinks?”  
“Yes, exactly. We are short on time and I cannot imagine what would be the purpose in sitting around in this inn and –“  
Oghren cut him off with a loud belch. “Because unlike you the Commander knows how important a good drink is to keep men going. Didn’t they teach you anything in the army, boy?”  
Before Nathaniel could snap back said commander placed four mugs on the table with a loud _thud_. “We are doing this because there is no sense storming into this place like a band of raiders” she explained between gritted teeth “Have you seen their looks? The last thing the Wardens need is even more distrust. Plus, when was the last time you have eaten something?”  
The elf elegantly sat down next to Anders and crossed her legs before reaching out to one of the mugs. “We will need several hours to the Keep – if we don’t run into Dark Spawn, thugs or whatever - and the Ancestors know what kind of bad news will await us there. This could be very well our only warm meal for the next three days.”  
The human ex-noble shook his head. “It still feels like wasting time. We should go up there, give the poor woman the ring and then be on the road before it gets dark.”  
“It won’t take long, Nathaniel. Rushing through doesn’t help, believe me. I understand that you want things to be settled as soon as possible, but I’m not going to loose any of you for something as stupid as fainting on the battlefield because you haven’t eaten or slept in days.” The tone in her voice clearly forbade any further discussion.  
“She has a point with the food…” Anders turned his head in the direction of the counter and sniffed. “I can’t concentrate with an empty stomach.” There were a lot of things recruits didn’t get told before joining the Wardens. Compared to the tainted blood, nightmares and all those things the constant hunger was bearable but it certainly had screwed up his already poor eating habits.  
The unlike party went quiet after that: Nathaniel pouted silently in his corner, Anders tried to catch the eye of the pretty waitress serving the neighbouring table and Oghren obviously felt obligated to take care of the unappreciated drinks. The Warden Commander had taken out her journal and a simple charcoal pen and was scribbling down some notes.  
Minutes passed and polite clapping was heard when the minstrel finished his song and started to play a quick dancing tune. Nathaniel gave out a low growl. “Just a minute, huh?”  
He was met with a frown that the Commander normally reserved for those who dared to use the term “knife-ear” in her presence. Anders felt respect for his fellow human who stared back without batting an eye. The silent duel was ended by her closing the journal with a sharp snap and putting the belongings back in the pack. “You, ask the barkeeper if the food is coming. If not, we will go without and buy something from the market. I’ll go get this ring delivered. Won’t help the poor girl if four people stare at her while receiving this kind of news.”  
Without further discussion the elf turned around and marched up the stairs to the guest rooms. Anders gave out a low whistle. “Ouch! Someone crossed the line again.” It was a well-known secret in the Keep that Nathaniel and their Dalish leader had the occasional argument even though they normally did not challenge each other in public. At first people thought it was because of her past with the Howe family and Nathaniel’s dislike of the fact that an elf took his fathers place as the ruler of Amaranthine. If one would ask their comrades, they would most likely lay the blame on their extra-ordinary stubbornness, the affinity to heated debates and a shared dislike to simply accept orders.  
“I pushed too far, didn’t I?” Nathaniel actually sounded a bit sorry.  
“I think we all are a bit on the edge right now. C’mon let’s get the food sorted. After a bath and a good night’s sleep at the Keep it will be all okay again – oh, I forgot: Tainted nightmares and blighted Dark Spawn talking in your head. Let’s strike the sleeping part.” Anders stood up as well and exaggeratedly stretched his back. “You got my point, though? Just lay low before she sets her Marbari on you.” He flashed a quick smile to the waitress as she walked by and was satisfied to see her blush and straighten her skirts in return. As she vanished behind the counter his ears picked up the shared giggling of the other bar maids. The mage gave the rest of the group a smug smile before making his way through the tavern. Ah, life’s small pleasures…

They were just listening to the visibly agitated barkeeper who told them about a patched cauldron surprisingly starting to leak again and his troubles with finding any reliable kitchen help as loud voices could be heard overhead and the unmistakable sound of a door being slammed open and close again resounded through the room.  
The three men exchanged a quick glance, expecting to see a crying woman rush down the stairs or something along the line. What was her name again? Nida, Keenan’s wife. Well, his widow if one wanted to be accurate. But instead of a grieving woman the Commander came striding downstairs and through the inn. Her cheeks were blushed and her lips curled back to something that was surprisingly close to an angry Marbari’s snarl.  
“We are done here. Home, now.” Without waiting for any reaction the elf rushed past them, leaving her companions, the barkeeper and probably half of the inn staring confusedly after her.  
“Well, thanks for the drinks and good luck with that cauldron. Maybe next time.” Nathaniel was the quickest to find some countenance. He paid, thanked the minstrel for the songs and pushed the other two men out of the door as fast as he could.  
“By the stone, what did she do up there?” Oghren shook his head. “Not attracting any more attention, huh? Roast me a nug that was quite a scene! I hope that dead fella’s wife still has her head.”  
“I hope so, too. Better find our dear Commander before someone has an unhealthy encounter with 7 stones of pissed-off elf.” Anders scratched his head. “Did she do that on regular basis?”  
“During the blight? Nah. Had some good arguments going and she nearly scratched out some noble’s eyes but that was the lad’s own fault.”  
The two humans did not ask what happened back then but hurried down the street, Oghren following on their heels. They caught up with her at the city gates, the knives already in her hands and swearing under her breath. The former Circle Mage gave out a sigh. It wasn’t going to be a pleasant way back to the Keep. He hoped nobody decided to linger in dark corners tonight – the poor sod would most possibly die a horrible death.

*

It was Anders who found her the next night, sitting on the highest roof in nothing more than a worn linen shirt and a pair of trousers cut above her knees. He wasn’t sure how he knew where he would find the Commander, maybe it was because of his time in the Circle, maybe it was because he suspected her of coming to this place a few times before already. Whatever it was, he just let himself slump down beside her, stretching his long legs over the cracked shingles.  
“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” As always, the mage asked one simple question to keep his tongue from asking all the others.  
“It is. But there might be rain tomorrow”, she answered, not once looking away from the stars above them. For a while they sat in silence and Anders slowly understood why she favoured this place. The climb was arduous, at least for him, but the view was amazing and between the glistening stars and the wind playing with his hair he felt his own tension melt away. A small cloud drifted in front of the moon, its shadows reaching over the rooftops, gardens and hills around them. For a moment the night turned even darker before the moonlight filtered through again, colouring the shingles in front of him in silver once more. He let out a sigh and turned his eyes to the woman sitting next to him. The shirt was too big for her and fashioned in an unusual style for this part of the country. Maybe she found it somewhere along her travels? At least the trousers looked very much like it.  
“May I ask you a question, Commander?”  
She did not react for a few more seconds but finally broke herself away from the night sky and turned her eyes towards him.  
“You can ask, Anders. Not sure if I will answer, though.” The small smile on her lips took away the graveness in her words.  
The mage laughed a little and lay down on the roof completely. “Being kidnapped, blood taken away from you against your will, the Architect, all the fighting and death and horrors… how did it happen that they did not upset you? You’ve pulled us through without batting an eye, but then you have an argument with a single teary-eyed widow and you totally go off. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”  
A long silence followed his words, the elf absently running a finger along the now scarred crook of her arm. He nearly started regretting asking her in the first place as she finally answered, her eyes still distant:  
“I cannot really explain you about the first part, I think after surviving the Blight there is not a lot left that still frightens you. But be reassured, I was only unshaken as long as you needed me as a leader. Cried myself to sleep afterwards and now I’m keeping two daggers under my pillow instead of just one.” She tried to smile but the levity was so wrong he could nearly feel it. It faded quickly enough with her next words, though. “I thought I already saw every gruesome thing these creatures can do; still this mess was new to me. I feel so very sorry for Sigrun and Valenna. Nobody should loose those dear to them in such a way. Actually, I am amazed how well they take it.”  
He bit back his comment about the antics if the Dalish ex-Keeper. Anders had hoped to find a likeminded soul in the other mage but had been totally taken aback by her aggressive behaviour. Okay, maybe the comment about her looks had been uncalled for, but this woman was an absolute prick to everybody except the Dalish next to him.  
The Commander interrupted his thinking: “But I guess what really interests you, is why I acted up like this in the tavern and not to trade some horror stories we all want to forget right now. You know, I wasn’t challenged by a woman going mad of grief – I am somehow used to them by now - but one cheating on her husband and than having the nerve to tell me it was his own fault for not being there. That he was playing hero somewhere and leaving her behind.” She shook her head and murmured something Anders could not understand. Most likely some elvhen cursing, as far as he knew her. Still, he could imagine why that had upset the elf. There was a lot to say about their leader, but she was loyal as a Marbari dog and held her bounds to others in highest regard.  
“You know, I still had his last minutes in my head, his shattered legs, the stench of blood – Creators, so much blood - and the pain in his eyes. And his last thoughts are of his wife, fighting to make the world better for her. Maybe it is naïve of me, but I’d like to think he was a good man. And Nida…”  
There was no need for her to continue, Anders had already gotten the picture. He closed his eyes, leaning against the hard edges of the tiles underneath him and suddenly feeling cold.  
“I think I understand. He fought for a dream she did no share and in the end he gave his life for someone too selfish to realize his sacrifice.”  
The elf drew her bare knees towards her, resting her chin on them and absently playing with a ring pierced through her pointy ear. “You know, even if it seems an honour to some, being a Grey Warden doesn’t pay well. You die early, you cannot have family, you venture into the Deep Roads never knowing if you will ever see the light of the day again. I am not saying I haven’t found great joy and even greater companions since my Joining, but I think I can honestly say it is not an easy life. But we all fight for something, don’t we? For our freedom, for the hope of a better future, for families and friends out here. Heck, maybe even for some patriotic idea of saving the kingdom and whatnot. And then this woman comes along, having no idea what she is talking about and despising all the sacrifices her husband made. He deserved better.”  
He did not know what to answer so he simply nodded and she didn’t seem to need an answer anyways.

The minutes went by slowly as both stared up into the stars, lost in their own thoughts. Anders thought of the Circle, of freedom and nights spent on the top of the tower with Karl, talking about a life without templars. About chasing girls with pretty eyes (for a second he thought of the pretty barmaid at the tavern – maybe when this was over he should pay her a visit? She sure had a pair of beautiful eyes and the way she got all fluttered had been too adorable) and short skirts and how much he enjoyed it during his flights from the Circle. He wondered for a moment what he was fighting for himself, but decided that this night was too beautiful to be spent brooding over such thoughts. And the Dalish beside him - he never knew what was going through her head. Oghren had once told them over a tankard or two that she used to be even worse: quick to anger, even quicker with her knifes and arrows, baring her teeth towards any kind of authority beside her own people. He knew her as assertive, yes, but a lot more disciplined than the scoundrel from the dwarf’s stories. Sometimes he found himself staring, still wondering how such a small framed thing could have killed an Arch Demon. He hadn’t dared to ask her so far.

It was well after midnight when she moved again, rubbing her hands together and then binding her hair back with a leather thong. “No idea how you are doing, but I feel like I’ve been hit by one of your ice spells, Anders. I’m going down as long as I can still feel these toes of mine.”  
The mage opened one eye and gave his best to look totally comfortable in his current position. Which wasn’t all bad but he was cold, too, and his back was demanding his soft mattress instead of the icy tiles. He had to work against his reputation as a coddled Circle mage.  
“So you haven’t found what you were looking for in the stars?”  
It made her smile just as he hoped and when Anders sat up she had her eyes closed again and was obviously enjoying the increasing wind blowing through her hair.  
“Who said I was looking for something?”  
“You stared at them quite intensely.”  
“I was wondering…” she bit her lip, suddenly looking embarrassed. “I was wondering if stars look the same where-ever you are. I know they look bigger on top of the mountains and brighter deep in the woods but it’s always the same stars, isn’t it?”  
“That’s an odd question. I guess some of my teachers in the tower would have good answers for this. But I’d guess they are. I mean, what else should be there?”  
“I don’t know. I was just wondering. See, it’s a nice idea thinking someone in the Brecilian Forest or Denerim or… I don’t know. Rivian, the Free Marshes, Antiva. Anyways, I was thinking if it is possible that all these people could look up and see the exact same stars as we do right now.”  
“That is a nice thought, I guess.” Anders threw a quick gaze upon the night sky again. Nice, but somehow unsettling. He changed to humour quickly to keep himself from overthinking the whole matter.  
“And here I thought you loved the Fereldan weather! But I have to admit, Rivain or Antiva must be nice this time of the year. No rain, just sunshine, nice and warm…” he laughed at the idea. “Do you think I could transfer to the Warden in Llomerryn?”  
“I don’t think there even are Wardens down there. And if there are, they won’t be Weißhaupt’s favourite”, she grinned back, moving her index finger across her throat with a quick motion. “More the cut-throat type I guess.”  
“Last time I checked you weren’t ‘Weißhaupt’s favourite’ either.”  
“No? You caught me there.” She stood up, wiping her hands on her thighs and Anders did his best not to give her a good look-over. This was as undressed as he had ever seen this woman and even if she wasn’t his type he was a bit… curious. Andraste’s butt, now he was staring. And guessing from her raised eyebrows she didn’t miss it.  
“May I ask where you got this exquisite clothing, commander?” he asked quickly, mimicking the voice of one of the noblewoman. “It doesn’t look like Feraldan fashion to me.”  
She shook her head, obviously believing he had been just looking at the clothing. How could someone slay an Arch Demon and stay this innocent?  
“Says the guy in a dress. And no, I didn’t steal them if you want to say that. They were a gift. Kind of.”  
“Check your eyes, milady. There is a significant difference between a mage’s superior crafted robes and a girl’s frilly skirts”, he shot back, coming to his feet as well. Somehow it seemed easier to talk and joke with her up here; she was less of Warden and more of a young woman this way.  
“My eyes are fine, thank you. Although, if I have to see Oghren in his unmentionables again, this condition might change spontaneously.” She started descending down to the lower roofs with an easy grace as if she was just walking through the yard instead of climbing around on the highest tower in the middle of the night. Anders swallowed heavily as he looked down. Maker, damn these rogues!  
“If I break my neck right now I’ll blame you, just so you know, Commander.” Anders inhaled sharply through his teeth as a tile broke under his boots and he nearly lost his footing.  
“Can’t you levitate yourself down or something?”  
“Where would be the fun in that?”  
“Got it. Watch out, mage, the ones down here are slippery.”  
“How did you get down?”  
“Just straight onward, don’t try going along the wall to your left. It’s even steeper this way.”  
“As the crow flies, huh?”  
He heard her stumble more than actually seeing it given how dark it was. The Commander cursed softly, but she did not scream or call for help so obviously she had caught herself in time.  
“Are you alright?” he called down nonetheless.  
“Yeah, I’m fine. It needs more than a Crow to throw me off my feet - at least most of the time.”  
Anders furrowed his brow as he heard her laughing but was too busy to ask her what was so funny about these birds. Right now his foremost concern was to get both his feet safely back on the ground beneath him. Squatting down before lowering himself carefully over the next edge he decided that next time he would send up Ser Pounce. This roof was made for rogues and cats, not for respectable mages.


End file.
